


Summer of The Weeping Rain

by xspike4evax



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her heart did not belong to him and his heart did not belong to her; therefore he could never truly be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer of The Weeping Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bad_swa community prompt table on LJ  
> Prompt: Heart

His lips parted against the delicate skin of her throat, tasting the passion and desire on her skin as he took her scent deep into his body. 

Willow let out a soft moan as they came together and a shiver worked its way down Angel’s spine. Lifting his head, he watched her; eyes closing to absorb the feeling of him inside her. 

Her hands were warm and small splayed across his back, her body so slender and fragile beneath his bulk; belying the strength and power she had hidden within her. He may be physically bigger and stronger than she was, but Angel knew Willow could break him into a million pieces with a mere look if she was so inclined. She was a witch and would always be the stronger of the two of them. 

Angel knew her power frightened her; shook her to her very core. She didn’t understand about power. She didn’t know how to control it properly; Angel blamed Giles. Giles should have seen, he should have known Willow would need help to control her magic. He had left her without any guidance whatsoever and Willow had screwed up. It wasn’t her fault, she was only human after all. 

Her friends didn’t see it like that and Angel sort of understood about that too. Willow was the good one. She was the strong one. They put her up on a pedestal, even Buffy had done it, perhaps without realising, but she had; and Willow had finally fallen. She was so far up that when she fell, she fell hard and shattered everyone’s solid belief that Willow was the good girl and incapable of doing anything truly wrong. 

His hips shifted and he sank deeper inside her; small white teeth grasped her lower lip as a breath caught in her throat. She needed this. She needed someone to see she was not perfect. She needed someone to understand that she made mistakes. She needed someone who knew from past experience that she wasn’t bad or evil. 

Angel fulfilled all those needs and he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry or guilty for it. 

He needed her too. He needed someone warm and soft to hold on to. He needed someone to forgive his multitude of sins. He needed someone to understand that he wasn’t a man even though he had a soul. 

Willow gave him all those things and she did it without thinking about it, without even trying. 

Her foot ran along his leg as her knees bent at his side, cradling him in the soft juncture of her thighs. Angel felt the change in her body as her hands gripped him tighter, her lower back arching off the bed. Lowering his mouth to hers Angel kissed her, drinking in the little whimpers she made. His hip shifted again, bearing down on her, giving her exactly what she needed and Willow came apart with a small cry. She tightened around him and Angel groaned, his eyes closing in pleasure and his head falling back. 

Stretching out beside her, Angel revelled in the frantic beat of her heart and the erratic breaths she took. She would affect him in the same way if he had a heart beat and needed to breathe. When she got herself under control she turned into him, using his shoulder as a pillow. Angel smiled, running his fingers through her hair, he actually liked this moment the best, when they were both content and sated and drowsy; when the world seemed a million miles away and they were the only two people in existence. Angel felt more alive in these moments than he had in a long time. 

As happy as he felt, Angel didn’t worry. He knew there was no cause to worry; his soul was safe. Willow’s heart did not belong to him and his heart did not belong to her; therefore what they shared, as intimate and loving as it was, could never be perfect happiness.

Perhaps, Angel mused, that was the most tragic part of all.


End file.
